The fall

she was one to fall exquisitely
her eyes held the abyss with a firm and strong grip
locks of her hair danced with the wind
like a war flag waving at souls on a battlefield
she wasn’t one to dig a grave and not sleep on it
so she cleaned herself up fro head to toes
made madly and deadly love to her one time lover
pumped perfume to tease the god’s nostrils
took her rocking chair to sit in the gap between Life and Death
while her skin entertained her parting soul with musical threads
she made avec le chant de l’hirrondelle
the hands of time couldn’t hold her any longer
she had made enough space in herself
to set her own timeline
just the flicker of a second
enough time to delight
in her last breath.

artwork by Sarah Geneblazo


3 thoughts on “The fall

  1. oh amazing. i love it . it is like a whole book
    and yet another serendipitous moment for me… just read another poem that made me think of death in relation to the dying moment… and last night i thought what a relief death may be but then i thought ‘but possibly we are not there to feel that relief because …we…are… dead?

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